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Face-Mask & Pain Stories

LUNA XII: The Gulag-Dungeon

Anti-communist narrative fiction. Within the forsaken forest of communism, lies the never-ending chambers of death.

Sororicidal Maniac,
Screamed at the top of his lungs,
“I got her! I killed her!”

His Beauty-sister lay merciless,
In buckets of her Ruby-blood,
A gentle tear or two,
Slid down her ex-rosy cheeks.

Faithful to the holy doctrine,
The fervor of Maximus’ zeal,
Drew him to tell on Maxine,
Infernal homicidal beast.

Creature of the night,
Like a toxic slow-creep worm,
Reached for the door to exit,
The look of religious fervor,
Karl Marx’s wickedly sin,
Now from his face it was gone.

Emotions of horror and an aftertaste,
Now marked with the Mark of Cain,
The one murder which he committed,
Was the one to rule them all.

Having gone past the final warning yesterday,
In which he heard in a clear lightning-voice:

“MAXIMUS, DON’T DO THIS MY SON.”

Using the faculty of reason,
The deceitful serpent-fruit,
Which cast down our Mother-Eve,
From the simplicity of the love of Messiah,
Ex-priest turnt communist was deceived.

Traversing in twisty paths of death,
Once he denied & rebelled at the warning,
The heart of Maximus thus hardened.

Entering through Ministry of Peace’s gates,
A dark-creep anti-vibe of death,
Followed the accursed communist.

Seeking to please men rather than the Light,
His Bible was thus sold,
As he received the gospel,
According to Karl Marx.

Understanding that for change,
We need a revolution and,
If we can destroy the rich,
And share among the poor,
Equal and fair thus we shall be,
From each to each by ability and need.

Casting away the God which has not worked,
We can then start anew,
A perfect brotherhood of man.

Even though he knew the verse well,
Which when friendship with the Light,
Was over his joyful house,
He always had deep talks,
With the now butchered baby-Maxine.

Saying in the path of the righteous is life,
And in its pathway there is no death.

But since he was implanted with,
The Demonic atheistic seed,
And since he viewed life,
As Darwinian hierarchical matter,
He forgot about the verse.

If using some force here & there,
And some suppression & torture,
We can forcefully reset,
Instead of moving history forward,
We will catapult it in reverse.

The end justifying the means,
After complete control & domination,
We will split the power in-between,
The formerly famished now well-fed peasants.

Being suckered and deceived by Lucifer,
The grand son of the morning,
Who manifested through the heart of Pride,
Of the grand belial-son Marx,
Maximus believed the lie.

Not realizing within the communism lies,
A secret Sceptre of Power,
Which only produces a Pyramid.

The demonic geometry of pyramids,
Is Anti-God, Anti-Life, Anti-Christ.

Evoking the presence of the spirit of pride,
Manifesting itself through,
Perfection, beauty & wisdom,
The pyramid of communism thus seeks,
To shower the core of mankind,
With the wicked vile Spirit of the Dark.

Upon taking the reigns,
The communist leader begins,
Invasion of all religions,
Suppression, murder & killing.

Oceans of Ruby-blood,
Soaks every street and corner,
As the sadistic-atheistic communists,
Torture their opponents.

Maximus not seeing the truth,
Since dulled by atheistic denial,
Saw the warning of the Light,
As scientific matter gone hay-wire.

Being blind to the presence of Spirits,
When fear, anxiety & terror,
Plagued his God-forsaken soul,
He took a chemical material pill,
To calm his roaring-sea nerves.

The path of the spirit was blackened,
To the profound sadness of the Light,
Who adored baby-Maxine,
The faithful priestess of the Light,
Who cried out to Him day & night.

Quickly traversing the ministry-corridors,
Maxine beseeched the chief’s,
Frozen and Black Desk of Power.

Trembling hand of betrayer-Maximus,
Pulled out his sister’s journals,
Filled with loving and kind words,
Since she adored lil brother-Maximus.

Watching over him with all her might,
Working two rough penniless-jobs,
To support her zealot brother,
Thinking he is studying,
She always boasted aloud,
“One day he will be great!”

After the letter-delivering,
When he got a cheap pat on the back,
The Goad of Truth once again tried,
To bring Maximus to his senses.

Denying again once more,
He thus went past the final check,
Entering the forsaken forest,
In the midst of which lay,
The never-ending chambers of death.

Once he confronted his sister,
As she pleaded with him,
Not out of concern for her own life,
But for the soul of Maximus.

Maximus could only think of one thing,
Behind this great door lies,
The satisfaction of the holy leader,
And my upward promotion,
Relieving my sister from a life of pain,
I am loving her for her own good.

By the doorway Maximus was hit,
With the battering ram of the truth,
Because of the presence of the Mark,
Stamped with the words CAIN,
He was no longer able to deny,
The pain which he had used to cut,
The heart of babie-Maxine.

To his core he was exposed,
The violent-Cut of the Light,
Mirroring the ruthless blade,
Magnified by the crime He had witnessed,
Ripped through to the heart of Maximus.

Quickly on the way out,
He was arrested on the spot,
They had to make sure,
No religious vermin remained.

As the torturer of the future-tense,
Readied his bloody ruthless-blade,
Screaming for mercy of Maximus,
By the Light and all living was ignored.

Forced into a Siberian-train,
Stinking, rotten, putrid stench of Death,
As Maximus shakingly sat,
By decaying-corpses of the dead,
Filled his anathemized innards.

Having lost his soul to the Demon of Belial,
Deceived and robbed of family and faith,
Atheistic communistic Max,
Was dragged to the dungeons of Gulag.

Tortured in every hole,
Stretched and meticulously gored,
Paying a hundredfold by hard-labor,
For every millisecond he caused pain,
The Mask of Karl Marx slipped,
Manifesting his sadistic hate,
Towards the Light & Mankind.

THE END

By Ashkan Jafarpisheh – October 12 2020

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